


Your Call?

by taciturnTangerine (Nhitori)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Imaginary Friends, M/M, Really just cute sadstuck, mentions of self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-18
Updated: 2014-07-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 08:20:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1975815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nhitori/pseuds/taciturnTangerine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is John Egbert and you are not real.</p><p>You've always known this.  But at least before, he could make you feel real.</p><p>Now you can't even reach him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Call?

**Author's Note:**

> Just a one-shot with an idea I had. Most likely just a one-shot that is. Let's see how this goes over.

The first thing that you can remember is darkness. An empty void, and a similar feeling. You had no purpose. No goal in life. No direction. Nobody to care about.

When you first came into existence, you had nothing. You didn't mind it, then. You never had anything before. Why should not having it be an issue? It wasn't.

You mind it now. You mind it now like hell because you've had the world and now you've lost it all because of HIM. Stupid. Stupid, fucking STUPID.

Your name is John Egbert and you know that you aren't real. But maybe you should start from the beginning.

You came into existence. You don't know how, but you did. The first thing you did was take a good, long look at yourself. Approximately fifteen years old, physically, and very much humanoid. The only thing distinguishing you from a regular huma, actually, was the blue tone that covered you, masking whatever your skin color may have been. If you even had one other than glowing and blue. The one other difference was that you could float.

And that was it for a long, long time. It felt like forever, but forever meant nothing to you then. You were fine with waiting. Just waiting until somebody needed you. You weren't sure why you would even exist, as most people don't want teenaged imaginary friends, but eventually, you found your place.

That place was with a boy named Dave Strider, who already had two other imaginary friends. Well, you say that's what the three of you are. You're not quite sure really what you are, though. You're products of his delusional mind, yet you existed before he thought of you and you obviously exist when he's forgotten about you too.

The first friend he already had was nearly invisible. His name was Karkat, and he'd existed since Dave was very young. Dave's sister had told him that he should make some friends, then he'd be happier. So he made a friend. Karkat was entirely tethered to Dave's shadow, except for a few things. Unlike a shadow, he talked, never disappeared, and didn't mirror Dave's shilouette. He had an entirely different outline. Also, a pair of glowing yellow eyes. Of course, nobody else saw this. Only you, Dave, Karkat, and... Bro.

You were never very fond of Bro. He didn't come from the same place as you and Karkat. Dave's parents ignored him often, so he came up with a better parent. Supposedly. You think that Bro is either very stupid or very cruel, because Dave never does anything good under his guidance.

You think it's funny, though, that you ended up being an apparent figment of Dave's imagination. Mostly because you arrived because he needed someone he could love, someone he could touch, he needed a boyfriend who didn't really exist. Because Dave didn't do too well with real people. You didn't quite fit the bill when you first arrived.

You made a stupendous friend for him, sure, but for the longest time you kept up this obnoxious "no homo" thing. You came with a weird pre-programmed set of a personality, current knowledge, and misunderstanding. You guess that's better than just getting hallucinatory relationships who are blank slates. Still. It's kind of odd that, created as you were to be his boyfriend, you refused to even entertain the thought for quite some time.

Of course, you did end up with him. And it was wonderful, actually. You probably only loved it as much as you did because you were meant to, but that doesn't change the fact that you _did_ love it. Past tense now, though. Past tense now.

You're starting to tear up, some.

You used to spend hours, just sitting around, playing video games and cuddling. Dave legally wasn't allowed to drive with his mental conditions, but he also didn't have a radio in his room. So you often sat in his car and listened to music. Oh yeah, you did forget to mention one thing. Karkat doesn't disappear naturally. He does, however, respect you and Dave's privacy. Did.

He would still respect it now if he had the opportunity to.

Everything changed a few days ago, though. And it's all Bro's fault. If you ever see him again you are so punching him in the face. You don't even care how he retaliates. You just need payback for his separating you from Dave.

Dave was all annoyed about something or other. You don't know what, he didn't tell you. Or Karkat. Considering he went straight to Bro, you guess he was being bullied at school or something. He always goes to Bro for any problems he thinks need action to solve. It always gets him in trouble but he never learns. Probably because he's clinically insane.

This time, though, Bro hurt somebody. Bad. Of course, Dave was there too. Dave was the only person there that the kid who got hurt could see. So Dave got blamed. Of course he got blamed. It's not his fault, though. You know Dave. He might not be quite right in the head, but he would never hurt anybody. Well. Never hurt somebody else.

You can't remember the number of times you've needed to stop him from hurting himself. Sometimes it's purposeful, sometimes it's not, either way, he doesn't seem to ever really mean anything by it. Dave is that guy who gets a papercut and just admires the way the blood looks, that guy who literally jumped out of a window "just to see if landing on a bush will cushion the fall or cause the falling person to be impaled". He missed the bush and broke his arm. The test was deemed inconsclusive.

Dave didn't hurt that kid. He said so, too. He told them that it wasn't him, it was Bro. Just Bro Strider, protecting him from the evils of his peers. That was when it all went to shit. That was when they made him take his meds and that was when you were catapulted back into the void from whence you came.

He wasn't supposed to see you anymore.  
So you wouldn't be there.

Now you're full out crying, watching your tears fall endlessly into nothing. You're clenching your fists so hard your palms are starting to bleed from your fingernails digging into them. You can't stay here. You just can't. You need to get out and you need to at least SEE HIM.

You need to see Dave Strider.  
So you do.

The emptiness in front of you ripples to reveal a classroom. An art classroom, with Dave standing there talking to his teacher. You move forward as quickly as you can, but just hit an invisible wall. You press your hands up against it, looking in. He's having an argument with his teacher. Holding up a painting of something terrifying.

You listen and you soon learn that he's arguing with her about his grade. He got an F on the project, which he doesn't understand. It was a still life, you were supposed to draw exactly what you saw, she says. He gets upset because that is exactly what he saw. What can he help it if he sees things differently than she does?

Fuck. You never realized that the world was so... scary towards Dave. That's how he sees what's around him. No wonder he needs a commanding presence like Bro around. You still want to punch Bro, though. Idiot, getting Dave put on his meds. Getting him fucking lucid.

Your heart just straight-out breaks, though, when you see him crying. Hours later, back in his room, he takes off his sunglasses and cries. You need to reach out and hold him. Just hold him close, let him know it's going to be okay.

He pulls out a pair of scissors and starts cutting his hair. Just one piece, that when untucked from his ear, becomes very long bangs. He cuts off hardly a millimeter at a time as he works his way up the strands, and fuck, eventually, with the wide scissor strokes he's making, he's going to end up stabbing himself in the eye.

You can feel the emotion running off of him. He's hurt and confused and so alone because on the meds, he doesn't have you, or Karkat, or Bro. He can hardly even remember you. He just knows that he needs you, but you're gone. He's tired of being all alone.

He needs to call you.  
He needs to just call for you and you're sure you could go to him if he just called.  
Why won't he call?   
You sink to your knees and pound on the invisible wall.  
You want to go back home, to Dave.

He needs to call you, you're feeling sick watching him get closer and closer to hurting himself. Damaging those beautiful red eyes.

He needs to call you, you're angry as all hell at Bro for ruining this. Taking him away from you.

He needs to call you.  
You're desperate for his voice.

You were born to tell him you love him.


End file.
